


the fire in your eyes

by tamamushigami



Category: Sexy Zone
Genre: Camping, M/M, what is fic writing even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-06 10:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15193046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamamushigami/pseuds/tamamushigami





	the fire in your eyes

A loud crack from the fire wakes him up, head still resting on Fuma’s shoulder. He shivers slightly as a cold night breeze passes by and an arm sneaks around his waist, pulling him closer and a head resting on his. The warmth Fuma radiates will always be his favorite — it makes him feel safe, wrapping around him like a soft blanket, protecting him from all possible evil things. It makes him feel treasured, his own warmth mixing with Fuma’s, creating a perfect temperature only for him. As if it’s only for him to feel. It makes him never want to leave Fuma’s side, never stray so he can’t feel his warmth, always close enough to reach out for his warmth. Another crack from the fire brings him back from his thoughts, Fuma’s fingers playing with the hole in his hoodie.

”You’re gonna make it worse,” He mutters but his words don’t hold any weight, not now at least.

”You will buy a new one anyway,” Fuma retorts, fiddling even more as if to prove his point. Kento doesn’t have the heart to argue with him (even if he also knows Fuma is right), especially not when Fuma’s hold tightens.

He feels how Fuma looks up, how the center of his body shifts but still properly connected to Kento. A low tune, almost a silent hum, starts to fill the air and the vibrations from Fuma’s voice travel through Kento’s too. Fuma’s raw voice blends nicely with the night breeze, fire sparks and leaves rustling. His own voice easily picks out Fuma’s melody, soon joining him in an impromptu acapella of  _ Kimi to…Milky way _ , their voices in perfect harmony as always. He almost wonders why Fuma chose to hum on this particular song but when he looks at Fuma and follows his gaze, he understands.

The night sky above them is a sea of shining stars, heaps of clusters and constellations they never see back in Tokyo. The absence of artificial light makes it easy to observe the stars, to marvel at the sight of different interstellar creations and just drown in the realization of how small you really are. For a moment, he forgets where they are. Who they are. All he knows is that the stars are beautiful tonight, that they are the only witnesses of this precious moment between him and Fuma.

”Kiss me?”

He asks because he knows they shouldn’t. Not with the younger ones sleeping in their tents. Not when they aren’t quite alone. But right now, he really wants Fuma to kiss him. Fuma doesn’t react at first, making Kento afraid he didn’t ask it out loud, but when he feels Fuma move, he relaxes. The kiss is as soft as the night breeze is cold, as intoxicating as the fire is warm. It doesn’t last long enough for him to properly appreciate it, a small whine escaping his lips when Fuma pulls away.

He’s about to complain but stops. Mouth slightly open and eyes widen when he sees Fuma in the light from the fire. The flickering light dances over Fuma’s face, emphasizing his jawline, cheekbones more prominent and eyes shadowed by the wet hair from their swim earlier. If he wasn’t already so hopelessly in love with Fuma, he would have fallen all over again. He can’t really complain when Fuma looks so ethereal it’s not even fair.

The wind picks up again and ruffles their hair. Fuma’s hair falls as he closes his eyes, shielding them from the wind. It reminds Kento of when they filmed for their latest single, how absolutely stunning Fuma had looked, all soft and emotional. It had been hard for Kento to not burst into tears on set when he looked at Fuma’s scenes from afar. He reaches out with one hand towards the dying fire, the light making the silhouette of his hand blurry. He’s just about to blink and refocus when Fuma’s hand appears and covers his - long, ring-clad fingers protecting his from the night. Fuma always manages to surprise him with the smallest gestures of affection, everything from a shared drink between work, a prepared meal for the next day, shooing away the others when he needs a short nap, and just like now; simply holding his hand.

There’s a rustle somewhere from the tents, startling them both, but their hands remain connected. A low, sleepy whine can be heard and they suspect Marius has kicked off his sleeping bag again. Kento almost makes a move to go and help the youngest but the grip Fuma has on his hand holds him back. It will always hold him back.

”He’ll sort it out himself, or Matushima will help him,” Fuma mutters to him as he intertwines their fingers, not quite wanting to break this moment. Kento relaxes his shoulders and lets his body slump back against Fuma’s. Their hands rest on Fuma’s leg and if Kento focuses, he can see how the fire dances in the reflection of the rings and bracelets on Fuma. It’s a bit mesmerizing actually, to watch the light flicker. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Fuma use his other hand to play with the fire with a half-burnt stick.

“Stop that, you’ll kill the fire,” Fuma pretends he doesn’t hear Kento’s words and keeps picking at the fire. Giving up, he picks up another stick and joins Fuma, their sticks playfully fighting over pieces of ashes and embers. They keep at it, never letting go of each other until the next night breeze passes by and Kento shivers slightly. It’s barely a shiver, he blinks one time extra and that’s all it takes for Fuma to put down the stick and bring his hand up to Kento’s cheek, stroking it ever so gently.

“Are you cold?” Kento shakes his head but Fuma only scoffs at him and pulls him closer, sleeveless arms radiating warmth when he gets tucked close. A few more silent minutes pass before Fuma speaks up again. “We should head to bed too.”

Kento shakes his head again, not yet. It’s not time yet. Just a little more. The little fire that is left burning flicks at him, almost begging him to stay. He wants to. Stay. As long as Fuma is there too. He’ll stay. He almost panics when he feels Fuma leave his side but then there’s the familiar tug at his arm. They’re still holding hands. They’re still connected. Fuma tugs again, wanting him to come with him. His body moves automatically, following Fuma’s lead, just like when they sing together. He looks away from the dying fire, into Fuma’s eyes, seeing the fire in them instead. The fire that never dies, the fire exclusively for him. 

The fire cracks once more, one last time before dying, as they retreat into their tent. 


End file.
